


Field Trip

by wrongstation



Category: Rent (2005)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:40:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25015606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrongstation/pseuds/wrongstation
Summary: Written for a challenge with the prompt "Star"
Relationships: Thomas B. Collins/Angel Dumott Schunard
Kudos: 3





	Field Trip

It had started with the simple question of ‘have you ever done it on the roof?’, and had been said with such an innocently curious tone that Collins hadn’t given his answer a second thought. No, he’d never had sex on the roof of anything, and he doubted the hood of an ‘87 something-or-other counted. They’d only been together for a week, so the conversations about sex weren’t anything out of the ordinary. Angel wanted to know all about his past experience, even though Collins had tried to tell her time and time again that there wasn’t much to divulge. Sure, he hadn’t contracted the dreaded AIDS virus by keeping his knees together and his pants zipped, but his sex life hadn’t been the kind of thing people were lining up to hear tales of. She listened to every story with rapt attention regardless, and then would shrug her shoulders delicately and lean forward to kiss him, saying that she could do it better and not to worry.

When Angel had brought up the topic of sex on the roof, they’d been lounging around Mark and Roger’s loft, neither one of them paying much mind to the fact that they were now alone in the space. They’d gone over with the intention of cheering Roger up and just generally hanging around the way friends were likely to do, but it hadn’t been much of a visit. Mark had taken off with a hurried explanation of ‘Maureen needs…’, at which point Collins had just tuned out the rest. The boy was so whipped and blind to the fact on top of it, but there was no use in saying anything. Roger had sulked about for a few minutes longer, trying to make idle conversation with them but still falling short. Angel had suggested he go see Mimi, which was the last straw and Roger stormed out, his guitar under his arm, leaving the two of them to themselves.

The conversation had naturally progressed towards the more private of topics since then, probably because they were free to let their hands slide along one another without fear of being inappropriate in front of their friends. It was still the honeymoon period of their relationship and they couldn’t get enough of each other, which everyone could clearly pick up on, even with their desire to be polite.

“You’ve never done it on the roof?” She sounded surprised, and she’d drawn away from him a little bit, her hand moving from his thigh to rest on her own cheek. “Oh my. Honey, we have some educating to do.”

He blinked. “What?” This sounded like another ‘field trip’.

“You heard me,” she said, stretching as she got up off the couch and stood in front of him. A hand extended down, and she waved at him impatiently to take it so she could help him up. “Come on, we don’t know how much time we’ve got until Roger gets back,” she said, her eyes dancing around the loft with a mischievous glint that Collins had come to both love and fear. “It’s gonna be cold out there too… better take… this!” That quickly, her hand had abandoned its quest to help him up and was instead plucking a large candle from a nearby table.

Collins eyed it skeptically, getting to his feet and shooting a nervous glance towards the door. “Baby… are you thinking of doing what I think you’re thinking of doing? Cause I gotta tell you, a candle ain’t gonna warm us up enough to do that,” he said, already fearing for certain parts of his anatomy. It was New York in December, and even with a blanket underneath them, somebody’s ass was going to become an icicle.

“Oh ye of little faith,” she said, brushing her hair uselessly back behind her ear, only for it to fall back into place a split second later. She touched the tip of her finger to his nose and then grabbed the blanket that rested along the back of the couch. “Come on, come on, come on. Let’s go, stud.”

She was tugging at his hand before he could stop her, and he was halfway out the door before he could even think of protesting. “Wait!” he finally exclaimed, putting his feet down and forcing them both to a halt. Her eyes were wide when she turned to look at him, her head cocking to the side with the angelic innocence that made him understand her name all too well. He couldn’t argue with her when she gave him those eyes, dammit. He sighed heavily and finally just nodded down to the candle. “Do you have matches?”

The grin that met his question could have lit the candle all by itself. “Why yes, I do. Now come on!” This time, he didn’t put up a fight and just let her tug him along. He was her rag doll, a toy to be played with any way she pleased and he would faithfully love her the whole while. When they reached the door that they’d have to push open to step out on to the roof, she stopped and suddenly pressed against him. Several long and very deep kisses followed, and a few scattered words about ‘warming him up’ were murmured in between breaths. Suddenly, the idea was feeling like a very good one to him, and the hand that was pressed against the crotch of his pants was telling him that the cold wasn’t going to be a problem.

Finally, Angel broke away and led him the rest of the way onto the rooftop, and suddenly that giddy twinkle was back in her eyes. The blanket was dropped down on the cement, and she dropped her head back, looking up at the sky and giving a fast twirl that made her skirt ruffle up around her. “Look at the stars. Oh… honey, aren’t they gorgeous? Have you ever made love under the stars?”

The innocently curious tone returned, and he had to admit that the answer was no. “No… I haven’t.” He’d had sex under the stars, but just like the ‘87 something-or-other car, his experience of having sex outside in the grass was irrelevant. That had been sex, when this was very clearly going to be making love. And oh how he felt like an eighteen year old boy again to think those words, giddy and vulnerable, fluttering heart and clenching stomach.

“Well I’m just going to be introducing you to a whole new world tonight, aren’t I?” she said, finally standing still and not twirling. She still had the candle in her hand, and she unceremoniously plopped down onto the blanket, her legs crossing automatically as she set the candle down to the side of the blanket. A book of matches had also been curled into her palm, and Collins blinked down at that a little stupidly, trying to recall if he’d seen her swipe those. She was quick, he’d definitely give his girl that. “Come down here and join me, baby,” she said with an inviting grin, rubbing the spot beside her. He didn’t have to be told twice and he quickly pressed close, wanting to trap the heat in as soon as possible. He was still wondering how the whole getting naked thing was going to work, but before he could open his mouth to ask, her lips were on his again and all coherent thought was gone.

With firm hands that always managed to catch him a little off guard, she pinned his shoulders down on the blanket and swiftly straddled his lap, pushing his shirt up his stomach a little and rubbing her hands over his skin. The air was cold and so were her fingers, and when he gave an involuntary shiver, she only smiled and reached for the now-burning candle. His eyes widened as her intentions finally clicked, and when the wax was drizzled down along his lower abdomen, his hiss was purely one of pleasure and not surprise. The mixture of hot and cold was more than enough to get his engine revving the rest of the way, and it was all uphill from there.

His pants got pushed down to his knees and her skirt got bunched around her waist, and all he wanted in the world was to fully melt into her completely the way the wax had melted along his skin. Their mutual cries were quiet echoes around the busy city below, and with an impish smile, she used the corner of Roger’s blanket to clean them up. The candle got blown out and the book of matches were curled back into her palm. This time, he tucked the blanket under his arm, and the walk back down to the loft was a much different one, slower with post-coital satisfaction.

It wasn’t until Collins had draped the blanket over the back of the couch again that he realized what it was they’d just done on top of it. “Uh… Angel? Do you think we should maybe was this first before we just leave it here?” he asked, now suddenly very bashful again about the whole idea.

Angel, for her part, just smirked and straightened her wig before saying, “Honey, I don’t think it’ll be the first time Roger falls asleep under a soiled blanket.”


End file.
